Jesse's Girl
Page 40
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“We should do this kind of thing more often,” Dr. Salter replies, patting Jesse’s cheek, and then the two men take off for the parking lot.
Jesse nudges me. “Think they’re going to get it on?”
“Ew! Too much info.” I laugh, and he curls a hand around my waist. It feels really nice to be in his arms. What’s happening between Jesse and me isn’t lost on Dave and Xander, and they share a knowing look.
“You guys want to get some food at Foothills?” Dave asks.
Jesse looks nervous at the invitation. “I can’t. I have a show tomorrow and need to get to sleep soon.”
When I hear his words, I stare into the distance at the Ferris wheel as it slows to a stop. Does this mean our night is over? It’s barely ten o’clock.
“I’ll get her home safe,” Jesse says, and Dave excitedly whispers that I need to call him as soon as I get there. I turn to leave with Jesse, and a bunch of kids from school, those annoying publicists, and the press all trail behind us, but really, it’s just me and him walking under the sparkling fair lights, my arm curled around his elbow.
• • •
I wrap my arms around Jesse’s waist and rest my cheek against his back as he drives me to my house, going extra fast to lose anyone who’s still following us. We pull into the driveway, stirring up gravel. Neither of us speaks as I take off my helmet and hand it to him. We still haven’t talked about what happens after today. Is this the last time I’ll ride his bike?
The last time I’ll see him?
Jesse leaves his cowboy hat on his bike, and we walk slowly to the porch, rocks crunching beneath our boots. The stars sparkle down on us, and moths do figure eights in the air.
I stop next to the screen door. “Thank you so much, for everything. I had such a good time.”
He squeezes my shoulders. “Me too.”
“You never answered my question.”
“What question?”
“If we can be friends…”
That smirk of his fills his face. “I hope so. I mean, I’d like that.”
My knees wobble in relief when he takes my phone and enters his number, then calls his phone so he’ll have mine.
Then he clears his throat. “May I give you a kiss good-bye?”
I smile and lean back against the house. “You may.”
He places a hand against the brick above my shoulder, leans in, and gives me a quick peck, his lips barely brushing mine. I let out a soft moan. I’ve been kissed before—thoroughly—but none of those kisses felt as amazing as this tiny peck. This must be the rush everybody talks about, the rush that makes it impossible to breathe.
When he pulls away, he stares at my mouth.
“Wow,” he whispers, burying a hand in my hair. With the other, he runs a thumb across my lower lip. His breathing speeds up, and right when I think he’s gonna kiss me again, my stupid brother slams open the screen door.
“What’s going on out here?”
“Nothing,” Jesse sputters and pulls away from me. Jesse is tall—at least six feet—but my brother is huge, a six-foot-four former football player, so I can forgive the sputtering.
“Who’s this guy?” my brother asks, even though he knows damn well who it is.
“Get out of here, Sam! What are you doing here anyway?”
“I was waiting on you to get home so I could have a few words with this country buffoon for running off with you—”
Jordan bursts through the door and grabs my brother by an ear. “Are you insane, Sam? Get your ass back inside now.”
“But that jerk is touching my sister!”
“Oh, as if you never touched a girl when you were his age. You touched every girl you saw.”
“Quiet, Jordan, or you’re going in time-out.”
“Time-out, my ass!” She tugs him inside, then pokes her head back out the door. “Nice to meet you, Jesse. I love your work. Especially ‘Ain’t No City Boy.’ No one else can sing about making love on a tractor like that. I love—”
“You only like it ’cause it’s about sex,” Sam hollers.
“It’s not only about sex. It’s a metaphor! You probably don’t even know what a metaphor is, you dumba—”
“Now you’re really going in time-out!” my brother says, and I let out a long sigh as they disappear back inside.
Jesse’s mouth has fallen open at their spectacle.
“That was my brother and his girlfriend.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I’m glad I’m an only child…”
Jesse nudges me. “Think they’re going to get it on?”
“Ew! Too much info.” I laugh, and he curls a hand around my waist. It feels really nice to be in his arms. What’s happening between Jesse and me isn’t lost on Dave and Xander, and they share a knowing look.
“You guys want to get some food at Foothills?” Dave asks.
Jesse looks nervous at the invitation. “I can’t. I have a show tomorrow and need to get to sleep soon.”
When I hear his words, I stare into the distance at the Ferris wheel as it slows to a stop. Does this mean our night is over? It’s barely ten o’clock.
“I’ll get her home safe,” Jesse says, and Dave excitedly whispers that I need to call him as soon as I get there. I turn to leave with Jesse, and a bunch of kids from school, those annoying publicists, and the press all trail behind us, but really, it’s just me and him walking under the sparkling fair lights, my arm curled around his elbow.
• • •
I wrap my arms around Jesse’s waist and rest my cheek against his back as he drives me to my house, going extra fast to lose anyone who’s still following us. We pull into the driveway, stirring up gravel. Neither of us speaks as I take off my helmet and hand it to him. We still haven’t talked about what happens after today. Is this the last time I’ll ride his bike?
The last time I’ll see him?
Jesse leaves his cowboy hat on his bike, and we walk slowly to the porch, rocks crunching beneath our boots. The stars sparkle down on us, and moths do figure eights in the air.
I stop next to the screen door. “Thank you so much, for everything. I had such a good time.”
He squeezes my shoulders. “Me too.”
“You never answered my question.”
“What question?”
“If we can be friends…”
That smirk of his fills his face. “I hope so. I mean, I’d like that.”
My knees wobble in relief when he takes my phone and enters his number, then calls his phone so he’ll have mine.
Then he clears his throat. “May I give you a kiss good-bye?”
I smile and lean back against the house. “You may.”
He places a hand against the brick above my shoulder, leans in, and gives me a quick peck, his lips barely brushing mine. I let out a soft moan. I’ve been kissed before—thoroughly—but none of those kisses felt as amazing as this tiny peck. This must be the rush everybody talks about, the rush that makes it impossible to breathe.
When he pulls away, he stares at my mouth.
“Wow,” he whispers, burying a hand in my hair. With the other, he runs a thumb across my lower lip. His breathing speeds up, and right when I think he’s gonna kiss me again, my stupid brother slams open the screen door.
“What’s going on out here?”
“Nothing,” Jesse sputters and pulls away from me. Jesse is tall—at least six feet—but my brother is huge, a six-foot-four former football player, so I can forgive the sputtering.
“Who’s this guy?” my brother asks, even though he knows damn well who it is.
“Get out of here, Sam! What are you doing here anyway?”
“I was waiting on you to get home so I could have a few words with this country buffoon for running off with you—”
Jordan bursts through the door and grabs my brother by an ear. “Are you insane, Sam? Get your ass back inside now.”
“But that jerk is touching my sister!”
“Oh, as if you never touched a girl when you were his age. You touched every girl you saw.”
“Quiet, Jordan, or you’re going in time-out.”
“Time-out, my ass!” She tugs him inside, then pokes her head back out the door. “Nice to meet you, Jesse. I love your work. Especially ‘Ain’t No City Boy.’ No one else can sing about making love on a tractor like that. I love—”
“You only like it ’cause it’s about sex,” Sam hollers.
“It’s not only about sex. It’s a metaphor! You probably don’t even know what a metaphor is, you dumba—”
“Now you’re really going in time-out!” my brother says, and I let out a long sigh as they disappear back inside.
Jesse’s mouth has fallen open at their spectacle.
“That was my brother and his girlfriend.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I’m glad I’m an only child…”
